


April Showers

by twdsunshine



Category: The Walking Dead (TV)
Genre: F/M, One Shot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-29
Updated: 2019-04-29
Packaged: 2020-02-09 21:02:25
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,853
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18646048
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/twdsunshine/pseuds/twdsunshine
Summary: When the reader finds herself trapped in a low patch and unable to snap herself out of the depression, Negan employs his own methods to put a smile on her face.





	April Showers

**Author's Note:**

> This is my entry for Negan’s Warm Weather Writing Challenge, hosted by the lovely @flames-bring-a-ton-of-ash on Tumblr. My prompt was puddles and this was just a cute little idea I had of how Negan might try and coax somebody out of a funk when they’re feeling low. It’s kinda childish but I could picture it in my head a little too easily. I really hope you enjoy!

_Splash._

Negan turned to you with an expectant smile on his face as water soaked into the thin fabric of his trousers, darkening the grey until it was almost black.  When you didn’t share his amusement, his determination only grew, and he took a running leap into the next puddle that dotted your path, landing hard and showering you both with a spray of icy cold droplets, drawing a gasp from your tightly-drawn lips.

‘C’mon, doll, live a little.  All work and no play makes Y/N a dull girl.’

He was teasing and you knew it, but you couldn’t help but take offence at the statement. ‘I don’t work though, do I?  I sit on my ass all day like a giant waste of space.  You’d be better off without me.’

He huffed quietly, and you practically felt him rolling his eyes, though you averted your gaze, fixing it to the toes of your boots as you scuffed your way along the road, wishing that he’d give up and let you return inside the fences to hide yourself away.

The rain had seemed endless.  For days the view from the window of the wives’ quarters had been wet and dreary, dampening the landscape until water ran in torrents down the sides of the road and the earth was saturated.  It suited your mood.  Life felt like a battle these days, and it dragged you down as you whiled away the hours, watching the world outside succumb to the weather.  Maybe it was down to having too much time on your hands, or maybe it was a symptom of the low self-esteem that you’d battled all your life, but you just couldn’t shake the feeling that you shouldn’t be here.  Those you had lost haunted you - your friends, your family - their faces contorted in terror as the monsters tore them apart, and you swore some nights you could actually hear their screams.  They had been strong, braver than you, more suited for this new world order, and yet they’d died in agony.  But not you.  Why not you?

You couldn’t help but ask the question.  You were unremarkable by anyone’s standards, not a fighter and with no notable skills.  That you were still breathing was a result of sheer dumb luck and the fact that you’d been picked up by the Saviors not long after the rest of your group had perished.  And now you spent your days lazing around, reading outdated magazines, painting your nails, and generally being at Negan’s beck and call whenever he might require your company.

It wasn’t a hardship, far from it in fact.  You’d grown fond of your husband over the past few months, genuinely enjoying the time you spent together and the pure sinful skills he possessed and put to devastating use whenever he summoned you to his room, but it only added to your sense of guilt.  You weren’t contributing, weren’t doing anything except indulging in the few luxuries left in this horrifying world, just a drain on resources, another mouth to be fed by those far more deserving than you.  The knowledge felt like a weight on your shoulders, so that some days it was hard to even drag yourself from your bed, and you found yourself sinking lower and lower as the rain continued to fall.

Until that morning…  

You’d been woken by warm rays of sunlight dancing over your skin, the storm finally over, and Negan had been gleeful when he’d thrown open the door and beckoned you to follow him with one, long, crooked finger.  You weren’t sure what you’d been expecting when you’d tugged on your boots and made to follow.  You hadn’t even bothered to change out of your pyjamas, just pulling on a jacket over the tracksuit bottoms and tank top you slept in, and shrugging at him when he arched a brow.  You’d been off duty last night so there’d been no need for lingerie, and the idea of slipping into one of your little black dresses and donning heels was more than you could stand.  It had proven to be a good decision.

‘Let’s get out of here,’ he’d drawled as he’d led you towards the gates.  ‘Bit of fresh air will do us both some good, huh?  Whaddya say?’

Another shrug.  Yes, the sun was shining and the world almost seemed to glisten as the light bounced off the water-logged ground, but your hope that the weather had been to blame for your depression was already ebbing away.  No matter how hard you fought to muster up some sort of enthusiasm, your efforts fell flat, and it was with a heavy heart that you followed Negan along the back roads, wondering why he’d chosen you to take this foray with him out into the wild.  Why not one of the other girls who would have been more appreciative of the sense of freedom?  That was when he’d stepped up his game.

‘You ever jump into puddles when you were a kid?’ he’d asked, and you’d nodded vaguely, trying not to remember, because to remember would just be to see the people you’d lost once again.  ‘Damn, I used to love it.  I’d come home dripping wet and plastered in mud, and my mom, she’d be yelling at me for messing up her floors or whatever, but it never stopped me. Simple pleasures, am I right?’

He’d been gone before you could respond, bounding away and launching his long, lithe body into the air, landing with both boots in the centre of a deep puddle, so clear that you could see his hands reflected in it as he shook the water from them.  He was laughing, and it should have been infectious, but you felt numb.  You had no right to be here, having fun, enjoying yourself.  Not when so many others were gone.

Now, he laced his fingers with yours, squeezing them tightly, and you somehow knew what was coming next even before he tugged you closer.  ‘Seriously, sweetheart, you gotta lighten up some, you hear me?  Shit, you’re scaring me, I’m not gonna lie.  Just give me this, alright?  Let me make you happy for a little while.’

And then he was running again, towing you along behind him, and when he jumped, you did too, the resulting cascade drenching the both of you so that you shivered.  He was shaking too, growing pale with the cold, but he didn’t let you go, so intent on bringing a smile to your face that he’d leap into every damn puddle from there to California if that’s what it took.  You knew there was no point in fighting it, that he wouldn’t stop, and so you gave yourself over to it, pushing your guilt down, swallowing the lump in your throat and living in the moment as he wanted you to, just for now.  You had to admit it felt good.

The air filled with the sound of his laughter and your shrieks as you sped along, splashing and kicking, and covering your frozen bodies with showers of icy water, venting your frustrations, pretending for a little while that you were just a girl and he was just a boy, and that you were in a normal relationship in a normal world, and that afterwards you’d be able to go back home to your place and curl up in front of the fire with blankets and hot cocoa, and make love in front of the flames.

You were so lost in the fantasy, so far from reality in your head, that when Negan hollered at you to stop just as you were about to break the stillness of a large puddle that spanned the entire width of the road, you felt as if the air had been forced from your lungs.

‘What?  What is it?’

‘Not that one, doll.  Wait a second.’  He jogged over, coming to a halt at your side and leaning over the shallow pool of water, waiting until you mirrored his position, squinting down as you tried to see past your reflection to what lay beneath.

‘What are we looking at?’

‘Don’t you see that?’  He nudged you with his elbow, and you tilted further forward, searching for whatever it was that was holding his attention.  ‘It’s beautiful.’

‘What is?’

‘You.’

You sucked in a breath, shaking your head at the corniness of the joke, but then Negan was pulling you round to face him, his own expression serious.  ‘I mean it, sweetheart.  You’re fucking beautiful, you are.  But you always look so sad.’

‘I…’  You didn’t know what to say, the concern in his eyes taking your breath away.  So, this was why he’d brought you out here.  Was he going to issue an ultimatum?  Pull yourself together or get gone?  Or had he already had enough?  You wouldn’t blame him.  You knew you weren’t much fun to be around.

‘You’ve gotta let go of the past, Y/N,’ he instructed you, gently.  ‘It’s gonna kill you otherwise.  I know it’s fucking hard, trust me, I do, but it’s the only way to make it through.  And it’s fucking spring.  Look at this place, coming back to life.  Give it a couple of days and all this rain’ll have the trees full of blossom.  It’s the perfect time to start over.’

You swallowed hard.  ‘I don’t know if I can.’

‘I know you can.’  He twisted you round again, so that you were staring down at your reflection, at Negan standing beside you, not pushing you away, but drawing you closer.  ‘Look at this shit.  You and me.  We’re a perfect fucking picture, aren’t we?  I mean, I already knew I was a handsome son of a bitch, but you, you’re sexy as hell, sweetheart!  And a badass to boot.’

‘I don’t feel it,’ you admitted, though you inched closer still, a small smile quirking your lips when he snaked an arm around your waist and brushed his lips against the top of your head.

‘But you’re still here.  You’re a survivor!  Doesn’t matter how or why, just matters that you’re still breathing.  You just gotta stop letting the world wear you down.  All those people, the ones you’ve lost, they’d be so fucking proud of you for not giving up.  But there’s not a whole lot of point if you’re not gonna let yourself enjoy life every once in a while.’

He wasn’t giving up on you.  In fact, he was doing just the opposite, and that alone gave you a boost that you’d badly needed.  In fact, with his body pressed against your side and his face smiling back at you from the puddle below, and the sun warming your skin, evaporating the moisture from your clothes, it almost seemed possible to claw your way out of the darkness.  You found in that moment that you desperately wanted to be the girl he so obviously saw when he looked at you, no matter what it took.  ‘I’ll try,’ you told him.  ‘I can’t make any promises, but I’ll try.’


End file.
